


Anything Goes

by centreoftheselights



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Prohibition Era, Bartenders, Bootlegging, F/F, Flirting, Guns, Implied Transphobia, Threats of Violence, Trans Woman Jessika Pava, gender non conforming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jess works the bar at the hottest speakeasy in town, and Rey is a part of the Millennium Falcon bootlegging crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything Goes

**Author's Note:**

> Approximately forever ago I was anonymously prompted Rey/Jess prohibition AU for my [Femslash February prompts](http://centrumlumina.tumblr.com/post/138495106946/femslash-february-prompts). Sorry this is so late!
> 
> This is also a fill for the Transgender square of my [Femslash Diversity bingo](http://centrumlumina.tumblr.com/post/145605022111/hey-everyone-over-on-femslashrevolution-im).

The sound of the door behind her creaking made Jess's blood chill in her veins. Immediately, she froze, not wanting to give away what she had heard with a hasty movement. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for any suspicious behaviour – signs that one of the patrons in the bar was working with whoever was trying to get the drop on her. Nothing seemed out of place, but even so, it was only slowly that Jess began to reach out for her weapon…

Before she could reach it, the door behind her swung open, and someone walked through.

“There you go, shipment delivered,” said a familiar voice with an English accent.

Jess spun around.

“Rey!” she said sharply. “You almost gave me a heart attack! I thought you were the fuzz!”

Rey laughed. Jess hastily smoothed down her dress where she'd ruffled it in her surprise.

“Not exactly. I thought you were meant to have good instincts?”

“Who let you in?” Jess demanded. “No, wait – let me guess. Poe.”

“He didn't tell you?”

“No, and he slipped out before the end of his shift. I shoulda known you and Finn were back in town.”

“With three crates of Skywalker's finest for our favourite speakeasy.” Rey smiled. “Now, are you going to shoot me still, or can I sit down and order a drink?”

As Rey walked out to the front of the bar, a few heads turned among the other patrons. The speakeasy served all sorts, but even in this sort of joint, the sight of a woman in pants – loose and dusty, but unmistakeably formfitting – was bound to raise eyebrows. Combined with Rey's messy hair and the streak of oil across her face, they marked her out as a very unusual woman.

However, very few of the customers would have guessed at Rey's true profession. While they might have pegged her as a factory girl or perhaps a farm labourer, they wouldn't come close to who she really was: the mechanic of the best and most notorious bootlegging crew in the state, the Millennium Falcons.

She was also Jess's favourite customer.

“You sure you don't have to rush off somewhere?” Jess drawled. “You know I hate to see a drink left unfinished.”

“I'm free for the night,” Rey said, leaning forward over the bar with a smile. “This was our last delivery, and we aren't heading out again 'til morning.”

“It must be my lucky day,” Jess said. “What are you having?”

“Hey!”

A man shouted from the other end of the bar in a tone that set Jess on edge.

“I'll be right back,” she said to Rey, who nodded sympathetically.

But the man apparently wasn't able to wait two seconds.

“Hey!” he yelled again. “Get over here and serve me, freak!”

Jess barely had time to register what had been said before she heard the thud of the guy hitting the floor.

The room fell silent. The sap who had insulted her was flat on his back on the floor with a split lip, while Rey stood over him, fists balled by her sides.

“Apologise,” she snarled down at him.

The man stared up at Rey with a mixture of astonishment and anger. He clearly didn't know what to make of being punched off his stool by a girl half his size. Jess could almost see the gears ticking in his head, weighing up his odds.

He was weighing them wrong. This pill was no regular, and he didn't have many friends here. Jess didn't peg him as part of any mob either. And he didn't know about the neat little piece that Rey kept down the back of her pants for emergencies – although there was a chance he was packing heat too, and that could get ugly fast.

Jess sighed loudly, reached below the bar, and levelled the shotgun at the guy on the ground.

“Take the hit,” she suggested loudly, “and hit the road.”

For a second, he looked about to argue. Jess raised an eyebrow at him.

“Or should I get the boss involved?”

At that, the man wilted. This was Leia Organa's joint – and no one in the city wanted to get on the wrong side of the General. The man dusted himself off and left.

As soon as he was out the door, conversation started up again, sounding only a little forced. Rey walked back over to the bar with a half-embarrassed smile.

“You don't know how to stay out of trouble, do you?” Jess asked.

Rey chuckled. “Because this place gives you such a quiet life?”

Jess poured out a drink, and set it on the bar in front of her.

“Here you go,” she said. “Skywalker's whisky. On the house.”

Rey frowned. “If this is some sort of 'thank you' for standing up for you -”

Jess laughed. “All this is thanks for is being our best supplier. But -”

She leaned forward over the bar and leant close to Rey – so close that she could feel the rub of her evening stubble on Rey's smooth cheek.

“If you want your thanks for you _trying_ to stick up for me, wait around 'til my shift is finished.”

She leant back, and Rey was smiling at her in a way that promised a long, tiring night ahead.

“Sure thing,” Rey said, taking a sip of her whisky. “I can do that.”


End file.
